Tag a friend who needs to have a good MOOO-ning! How bloomin' cute is this fluffy coo? Absolutely love this shot by @joeturner90 taken at Baslow Edge in the @peak.district. Imagine a world where you can go hiking in the countryside and you don't have to worry about bears, mountain lions or wolves.... Just the occasional Highland Cow, slightly miffed sheep or prancing deer. Basically Britain (outside of the cities) is one giant Disney movie.
Normally you would associate these gorgeous creatures with Scotland, but they can now be found in pockets across the country. In fact, it is estimated there are around 15,000 Highland cattle in the United Kingdom. These fluffy creatures are a very old breed, known to have grazed the rugged Scottish landscape since the sixth century. It is still a matter of debate as to whether they were an origin of Scotland or imported from Scandinavia perhaps with the Vikings. They do love to shop in IKEA so it could very well be the latter.
Have a great Saturday! Don't forget to tag a friend. It makes this baby coo very happy...no pressure. 🐮 Lovely shot by @joeturner90 🇬🇧 Want your Photos of Britain to be featured? Follow and tag this account in the picture! 🇬🇧
Part 2: And then there were Two...
(Continued from our earlier post, see Part 1)
Cautiously I put the car back in park, and stepped outside. As the farmer reached me, I braced for the chance I would have to put up a fight to take Jude with me after all... but instead he shocked me by telling me there was an older calf in bad shape, that I could take... -
I rushed to follow the man into the back barn, where my senses were immediately overwhelmed. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, the room was almost pitch black except for the streams of sunlight peaking through the cracks in the old wood door. Pens that weren’t much larger than a dog crate, were filled with calf after calf. The barn reeked of scours (a dangerous form of diarrhea in young calves), the stench getting stronger further into the barn. As we walked past the rows of babies, I noticed the half empty buckets of milk replacer, all with layers of dust covering the top. They were also feeding grain, an extremely dangerous practice for calves this young as it causes ulcers - but also causes excessive growth, therefore a quicker profit. -
He was at the very end of the barn, in the furthest stall from the light. In a pen just big enough for him to move forward, backward, and turn around in, with two small buckets as substitution for the love and nourishment he would receive from his mother. The farmer told me the baby was somewhere around 6 weeks old, though this baby was just barely larger than newborn Jude. So frail, he struggled to stand, every bone and rib jutting out. With every few breaths he strained to let out a cough, his little lungs filling with fluid. His fragile body shaking violently with each heave. -
Magnus was a veal calf. He was intended to spend his short life in that crate like pen, never to see the sun again until the day he would be trucked off to a slaughterhouse and killed for his flesh. As many calves do, Magnus struggled to drink from a bucket, and without any assistance from the farmer, he had been suffering from starvation. With a compromised immune system, he had developed a case of pneumonia and was in bad shape.